With 1000 Sweet Kisses: The Reboot
by don'tlikehugs18
Summary: A series of one-shots featuring different kisses and different character pairings. Romance, humor, angst, and awkwardness galore! A reboot of my old fiction for the reboot of my old favorite anime. Inspired by "I'll Cover You" from Rent. New updates weekly until I run out of ideas.
1. Chapter 1: YukixMachi

A/N: Once upon a time an aspiring college student in the first bloom of adulthood and romance gave fanfiction writing a shot, thus "With 1000 Sweet Kisses" was born. Time passed and suddenly the now older, former student found the reboot of Fruits Basket. As such, I present a reboot for the reboot.

Chapter 1:

Pairing: Yuki x Machi

The signs were everywhere. Banners stretched across the halls, posters strategically placed along the walls, small flyers pasted anywhere there was space, including on bathroom stalls. Yuki couldn't escape it.

The spring dance was coming soon sending people into a frenzy to find that perfect dance partner, the perfect outfit, the perfect photo filter. Small pockets of students, mainly girls, could be found chattering about this and that at the corner of every hallway. The worst part for Yuki wasn't the chatter or the flurry of student activity, it was the girls themselves.

"Um, excuse me, Sohma?" A timid, childish voice startled him out of his reverie.

"Yes, what is it?" he queried in his polite, quiet voice.

"I was j-just wond-d-dering if you would be interested in… um, going to the dance… with me?" The poor first year couldn't even look him in the eyes. Her face turned a solid crimson from hairline to chin. She wrung her hands together when he didn't answer immediately.

"I'm sorry. I plan on only attending the dance as president of the student council, not as an actual participant." He gave his best attempt at a genuine smile at the end to reassure her that it was his problem, not hers.

"Oh… ok then." She scurried off to a small gaggle of underclassmen who welcomed her.

They must have been waiting for her. I'm going to kill Kimi for suggesting this, but that would tarnish my image as president.

He gave a weary sigh. Yes, the student council was sponsoring this dreaded and damnable event. He would have voted against Kimi, but that dratted Manabe was all for it as well. As irritating as he is, he would have been worse if denied this opportunity. Yuki sighed again. As a member of the student council he was bound to go, no matter how much he wanted to get out of it.

'At least this time I don't have to wear a dress and I'm not required to dance,' he thought to himself as he made his way down the hallway.

He nearly smiled at the memory. It was almost far enough in the past to laugh about. He knew he wouldn't be alone at the dance either. When the idea was suggested, it was the only thing that woke Machi out of her stupor. Her head snapped up and disgust laced her gaze.

'If only she would have spoken up, that could have changed the entire vote. Listen to me, "would have" "could have," I'm talking like that stupid cat.' He sighed and shook his head. 'I might as well get this over with though. It can't be that bad.'

The night of the dance showed him just how wrong he could be. The small auditorium was covered in crepe paper and balloons. There was tinsel and more crepe paper hanging from the door to make a curtained entranceway. Inside music was blaring from speakers set up on the small collapsible platform at one end of the room. There was a heavy beat to it and the lights were all dim. Yuki immediately attached himself to the nearest wall, farthest away from all the girls stumbling around in their high heels and long dresses. He watched more than one trip and realized this was probably the safest place for him.

"Yun-yun!" A heavy arm was thrown over his shoulder and the body of Manabe jostled into him. "Great dance huh?!" He had to yell over the music. "Come on, me and Kimi are dancing now. I can let you cut in if you want."

"No thanks. I think I'll get some punch or something. See you later!" Yuki ducked out of his grip and took off around the wall, dedicatedly looking for the snack table. He found something entirely different though.

Machi was slumped against the wall about ten feet in front of him, glaring at the students dancing on the floor, the decorations, the snack table, even the DJ. Her gaze took her around the room and when it fell on him, she paused, eyes wide. He waved and finished the distance to her.

"Everyone seems to be having a good time," he commented after an awkward pause. Machi just nodded. Her glare was directed at her brother, then at Kimi. Looking closer Yuki could see the different emotions playing across her face. It wasn't hatred he found, but longing and jealousy. Confused, he studied her more.

"Don't you dance Sohma?" Her gaze turned directly to his face.

"No. Don't you?" He offered her a reassuring smile.

"No." Her tone indicated she was hiding what she wanted to say.

It all made sense. Her glares, why she hated the idea of a dance. People were always spreading rumors about Machi and no one really talked to her. A dance was just another social gathering for her to be shunned. While girls were throwing themselves at Yuki for his attention, not a single boy had approached Machi since the dance was announced.

The song beat changed and Yuki decided he'd chance it. He startled her by taking her hand in his.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked just before lightly kissing her fingers.

She blushed. A small spray of pink covering her cheeks and nodded, unable to find words. Careful to maintain distance, Yuki treated Machi to her very first dance.

**End****Note**: This was written many, many years ago and as such I didn't realize there aren't really school dances in Japanese culture and that it's mostly an American thing. The concept already existed though and I'm inherently lazy and didn't want to change the entire thing around.


	2. Chapter 2: HiroxKisa

A/N: Another chapter of wholesome content. The kids are probably about 5 or 6 in this since I loosely based the imagination scene on my son's daily whirlwind of destruction through the house.

They played together every day, but that was expected for children born so close together and isolated from the world, their family. Each day, one could be found at the other's house creating some mischief and mess before a harried mother ushered her child back home. But they liked it, playing together, even if Kisa only ever wanted to play "dumb, girly games."

"Hiro, what if today we played Knight and Princess?" Kisa asked, hopefully holding out both a toy sword and tiara.

"Why do you always want to play such boring games? Isn't there something more creative you could come up with?" accused the small boy, scowling at the offered toys.

"So, you don't want to play with me?" Her arms dropped limply to her side, still loosely holding the tiara and sword. He caught a glimpse of tears just before she turned her gaze to the floor.

"I didn't say that," Hiro backpedaled, his tough guy routine breaking down in the face of his best friend's sadness. It would be several more years before he honed his edge of preteen angst that would vex his extended family. "I just want to be able to fight more monsters this time."

"That's ok then," Kisa forgave him. "I'll be the Princess and you can be the Knight. The monsters have taken me to the castle and you have to battle them to rescue me." Kisa firmly shove the tiara on her head, making sure it didn't slip down and become a necklace, while she and Hiro set up numerous stuffed animals and blocks as the monsters surrounding her. When everything was set, Kisa took her places in the corner of the "castle" and looked suitably frightened of the horde of "monsters" surrounding her, keeping her prisoner.

"My room is the castle, so you can't start the battle in here." Hiro sighed at the familiar set up and left the room with the toy sword to begin his fight down the hallway.

He looked around as the familiar surroundings of the hallway melted away and became a dense forest. In front of him a broad path wound through the trees leading to his destination. He could see it on a rocky outcropping in the distance, the castle. He knew his Princess was held captive there by monsters and his quest wouldn't be complete until he had rescued her. Unsheathing his sword, he carefully made his way down the path, on guard from any evil demons that could be lurking in the woods. Surely they wouldn't leave the path to the castle unmanned, without sentinels. That would be foolish in the extreme. A rustle of leaves and a snapping twig caught his attention. Hiro whirled around just in time to meet the monster head on.

"Hyah!" Slam. Bang. Crash. Kisa giggled behind her hand. Hiro was always the best at playing the Knight. She always got scared of the monsters in the hallway when she was the Knight and the Prince had to ride forth to rescue her.

At last the castle door was in sight. He cautiously pushed it open and was met with a wide, empty courtyard. He knew the Princess was hidden somewhere deeper within the walls and that she would be heavily guarded by monsters. He flitted around the edges of the courtyard and was met with no adversaries as he made his way into the main castle and headed toward the banquet hall.

With the element of surprise on his side, he threw open the door and was met with a battalion of demons. The brave knight Hiro nearly ran away from so many enemies, but the sight of the Princess, with her shimmering amber eyes and long ginger hair, held captive in the corner, gave him strength.

"Do your worst, you monsters!" he cried, and the battle began in earnest.

Monsters toppled left and right. Some fell to the ground dismembered. Others flew into the far walls and landed crumpled on the ground. None rose again after they face the Knight. Hiro swung his sword this way and that and charged through the fight without even earning a scratch. At the end of it all, he was face to face with his Princess. She had swooned during the battle and lay on the ground in a faint.

The Knight was suddenly overcome by her beauty. He had heard tales of her sweet disposition, her gentle manners, as well as her quiet temper, but no one had mentioned her beauty. He admired her long eyelashes resting on her cheeks and the way her tiara was just slightly crooked as it slipped out of her hair. He knew, in his heart of hearts, that this Princess could be his true love. He wanted to wake her, to see her smile, to have her look on him with favor. So, using all the knowledge he had from books and movies, he leaned down to give her a careful kiss on the cheek.

Kisa's eyes blinked open. He had kissed her. That wasn't how they usually played the game. Her eyes met his, a question forming on her brow. Hiro looked back, sheepish, with a small blush staining his cheeks. He scooted backwards, looking away, and giving her space to sit up and adjust her tiara.

"Kisa! Hiro! Would you like a snack before Mogeta begins?" Kisa's mother stood in the doorway, surveying the toppled blocks and scattered stuffed animals. "Oh, the mess you two have made! No Mogeta until this is picked up. Understand?"

"Yes Mama." "Sorry, Auntie." The children spoke at the same time. Kisa's mother gave them her tired smile, before heading back to the kitchen to make the rambunctious children a snack.

"Thank you for rescuing, brave Knight Hiro! Now let's clean up like Mama asked." Awkwardness forgotten, Kisa turned to beam at Hiro as she began to gather the stuffed animals closest to her.

Hiro just scoffed and scooped up blocks. But he wondered, in his heart of hearts, could she really be his Princess?


	3. Chapter 3: AyamexMine

A/N- Heeellllloooooo darlings! Special shout out to my New Follower ;-*

I know I said updates weekly, but current circumstances are a hindrance. In good news, Social Distancing has given me the time to re-read the entire manga, so I'm sure the muse shall inspire me forthwith. Until then, enjoy a man near and dear to my flamboyant, extroverted heart: Ayame.

"Mine just what am I going to do!?" The ever dramatic Ayame moaned from the corner of the backroom.

The store had been extra busy over the last few days. A high profile wedding was scheduled for that very weekend and somehow the shop had come up in discussions. The bride and groom decided that the whole ordeal would be more special if everything was handcrafted and exactly tailored to perfectly suit each person. They wanted everything bespoke, right down to the individual styles of the bridesmaid dresses. Needless to say, the business proposition was far too good for Ayame to pass up. The guarantee of many photographers attending and the prospect of everyone looking stunning would grab incredible amounts of free publicity for his little shop. His name would be dropped all around and guests, also known as new customers, were sure to jump at the chance for an Ayame original.

However, two weeks into the project Ayame realized, with a stunning bump into reality, the sheer magnitude of this wedding. The bride wanted handmade from scratch dresses for herself, her mother, her mother-in-law, and all her bridesmaids, seven in all. Plus the groom wanted a hand tailored suit each for himself, his father, his father-in-law, and his best man. Then the bride decided that it would be a dreadful faux pas to wear her wedding dress the entire time and requested a custom dress especially for her reception and yet another one for her departure from the church. All in all, sixteen different outfits.

Ayame and Mine had been working furiously for three weeks solid. They closed down shop to anyone else, stopped all other projects and left messages on machines for clients not to swing by the shop any time in the next month, sorry for the inconvenience. There was scrap material everywhere! Piles of sketches crowded the desk and table in the back. Heaps of fabric, beading, lace, sequins, thread, extra needles, and a few pairs of scissors lay spread out in the chairs along the back. Neither of them left the shop until well into the night, and that was only to eat, shower, and crash onto the nearest soft surface to pick up the job again the next day.

Ayame was now running on his fifth day on the same dress, three cups of coffee (which he normally refrained from drinking due to its harmful effects on the teeth), and about four hours of sleep. He was out of ideas, patience, and running very thin on time. Mine was diligently working on the last bridesmaid's gown. There were only two more dresses to finish, total, but these last two were the most complicated and there was no set design laid out yet.

Ayame slumped down in his seat, too frustrated to care about posture and proper balance anymore. He rested his head on the back of the chair, closed his eyes and rubbed the lids with one thin hand, fingers red from careful stitching.

"I'm not sure Boss," she sighed to her beloved employers question. Even Mine's normally cheerful disposition was stretched thin. "What are you going to do about what exactly?"

"These last two dresses. They're nightmares each of them. As much as it pains me to admit, I have no ideas as to what to do." He rested his hand on his eyes now, wishing he could wake up from this terrible, horrific dream he landed himself in.

"Well, we have her measurements and you already picked out the colors, right?" Mine finished the last stitch of the beadwork on the last bridesmaid dress. She whipped out a hanger and hung it before collapsing on her work stool.

"Yes, yes, that was the easy part. Now it has to have a shape and design to fulfill all her romantic dreams of her wedding day." Though he meant what he said, his words carried a half-hearted tone.

Mine sat in thought, then began absently sketching on a sheet of paper. Ayame picked up his needle again, determined to finish the lacing on the hem of the wedding dress if it killed him. They worked in silence for a few moments. Ayame was just starting the lacing on the bodice when a white sheet of paper was thrust in his face.

"Something like this maybe?" Mine asked, offering him the paper.

Ayame took it, glanced over the design, then began to slowly pick it apart, analyzing the time and effort it would take. He imagined their young client in the finished product. A smile broke across his face.

"Mine, you're a genius!" he exclaimed for the world to hear. "I knew I took you under my wing for a reason." He grabbed her hands and began a twirling dance about the room.

"My brilliant ingénue! My wonderful assistant! Ma cherie! Mon ami!" He continued to spin and twirl her about the shop, avoiding piles of fabric and discarded designs. "It's a simple, yet elegant, beautiful design! Mine you're a lifesaver!" He took her by one hand and gave her a quick spin.

The end of this ordeal left her breathless, glasses askew and slightly dizzy. Before she could stagger back to her stool Ayame swooped down and pecked each of her cheeks.

"My little way of saying 'thank you.' And when this is all over, I'll be sure to treat you to gyouza! My treat!" Mine thrust one fist into the air in approval as she tried to keep her balance all the way back to her seat. Working with Ayame certainly had interesting rewards.


	4. Chapter 4: TohruxHatori

**A/N:** Hey there and happy Monday! I bring to you...light crack.

Confession time: I read/reread all the manga during my first week of lockdown. (Shout out to my local library for having them all AND letting me fill up two library cards before they closed down.) The volumes were still being published when I went away to college, so I didn't know how they actually ended, but I do now. It was beautiful, I cried. I'll continue writing/editing these as an exercise in suspension of disbelief or AU exploration. Much love. Stay safe. Stay healthy.

Tohru sat in a hard, mint green plastic chair in the stark white waiting room. She had snuck into the main house with the help of Momiji and Haru. She knew trespassing was wrong, but this was for a good cause. While rehearsing the play of Sorta Cinderella, Yuki had had a particularly terrible asthma attack. The class had called the practice to a stop immediately, and even Kyo had looked worried.

Tohru had instantly called Hatori and explained the situation. He had arrived in less than ten minutes, a new record. By that time Yuki had collapsed onto the floor, breath coming in sharp, gasping wheezes. They had helped Yuki to the car; Hatori then took the wheel and zoomed off in the direction of the main house, anxious to treat Yuki to the best of his ability in the privacy of the Sohma home. However, this left a panicking Tohru and a stressed Kyo stranded at the school. They had walked home in a stretched silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts.

Yuki had not come home that night and wasn't at school the next day. This long of an absence left Tohru more worried than usual. Noticing her unusually high level of anxiety, Momiji and Haru both approached her on the subject of sneaking into the main house for a quick visit of everyone's favorite invalid (here's a hint, it's not Akito).

That's how she came to find herself, waiting in an uncomfortable chair for over an hour in Hatori's secluded clinic at the edge of the Sohma property. She'd seen Yuki for a few moments and he assured her that everything was going to be fine. After thoroughly reassuring her for several minutes and gently easing her from her panicked state, he delicately changed the subject and a pleasant conversation ensued. Hatori had walked in only minutes later declaring Yuki still needed his rest and for Tohru to please wait in the front lobby until he was able to speak with her.

_I wonder how long this will take. I hope I'm not worrying Shigure or Kyo._ Checking the clock on the wall, she jumped. _It's nearly time for dinner and I didn't set anything out! What if they go hungry? It will be my fault! Let's see, what should I make when I get home? It should be something quick but still healthy._ She was so engrossed in her planning she didn't notice Hatori saunter in.

He studied her for a moment, as if she were a patient with a problem. She had a faraway look in her eye. She was deeply concentrating on something and kept absently checking the clock. Her posture indicated she was uncomfortable in the chair, but she made no effort to move. He was still in awe how a fragile girl like her, so familiar with life's cruel twists of fate, could waltz in and began healing wounds he thought would gape forever. Just staring at her made his heart beat like it was whole again. He could feel it moving strongly in his chest. Deciding this had gone on too long, he cleared his throat. She jumped.

"Ha-Hatori." She shot up from the chair to bow. "Did you have something you wanted to talk about? Is Yuki still ok?"

"Yuki is fine." He took a few steps closer to her. "How are you feeling Tohru?" He wondered everyday when she would be too frightened or disgusted to continue and would run screaming away from the family. He wondered how long it would take until he had to wipe her memories of everything. He couldn't deny how much it would pain him to lose the sunshine she'd cast into his life.

"I'm just fine Hatori. Why? Is Yuki very ill? Oh no, is he contagious?" She took a few nervous steps toward him. His heart beat faster.

"No, Yuki will be just fine. It was a terrible attack this time, but asthma is hardly contagious. I was simply wondering if Shigure was treating you well." He captured a strand of her hair between his fingers. The mood between them changed abruptly. He stared down at her with his one wholly visible eye, though she could feel the other's gaze as well. She gave a timid glance upward to meet his eye.

"Shigure has been very kind to me, Hatori," she answered quietly. He seemed much closer than before.

Neither one spoke. She could see, in his pale green eyes, the different emotions that never made it to his face. She saw past the layer of ice and stoicism to the tempest swirling in him. It was a strong, flame born passion, one cultivated of many years of patience and hard work. It was the spirit of the dragon she saw reflected in his one observable eye. She shivered, an involuntary reaction to what she had seen.

A practiced hand flicked out and placed itself, palm outward, on her forehead.

"No temperature. Are you cold?" She hadn't realized how smooth his voice sounded. Listening hard enough, she could hear the fire in it as well.

"N-n-no." Coherent speech was too much for her now. All thoughts of dinner, the house, Shigure and Kyo were out of her mind now. Her heart stuttered along with her speech.

His hand slid down from her forehead to just below her jaw, cupping her face upward. His long fingers found their way behind her ear, stroking a minimal bit of skin there. She was blushing, she could feel it. His face was slowly ducking to hers. Her breath was becoming shallower. She felt her eyes slide to a close of their own accord. She could feel his warm, moist breath just before her lips. His breathing was a little steadier than her own, but still faster than normal.

She stood stock still, afraid that she would activate the curse accidently if she let herself move. Slowly, with all the care in the world, Hatori brushed his lips against hers. They rested there for a moment before moving against hers, slowly, carefully, teasingly. It was so much better than she had ever anticipated her first kiss being. She tried moving her lips back against his and was met with a quiet hum of approval and a little more pressure on her mouth. With caution she raised her hands to his shoulders and he moved the hand not holding her face to her waist. They were easing into a harder kiss, unleashing some pent up feelings on each other.

A bird was perched outside the waiting room window somewhere. It chirruped loudly, a jarring shriek in the happiness welling around Tohru. She ignored it and pushed against Hatori more. The bird shrieked again, louder this time. Hatori suddenly felt less solid. She pulled back, worried that she'd made a mistake somewhere. He gave her a small half smile and completely evaporated! The bird shrieked again, the loudest yet.

Tohru blinked, but found it hard to open her eyes again. She squeezed them together harder and tried to quickly pry them back open. She was met with a radiant light streaming in through her window. The alarm clock on her bedside table gave another sharp beep before she touched the button to reset it. Swinging her feet onto the floor, she set off to get ready for the day.

_That's the last time I eat that much mochi that late at night._


	5. Chapter 5: AkitoxShigure

A/N: Hello there dear readers! Special shout out to James Birdsong for dropping reviews on these chapters! Thank you so much! All you anonymous readers out there are deeply appreciated too. Story views, reviews, all that, shines such a positive ray of sunshine on my soul during this otherwise really murky time. Once again, thank you, truly.

This chapter contains the **Infamous Chapter 97 Spoiler** so all you anime onlies who might be reading this, it's the one to skip until Furuba 2019 is completely done. Haven't seen Season 2 yet myself, so I don't know where they're at in terms of reveals. I'd like to this this is a depiction of a plausible moment between an Akito at 11/12 right before things start getting shaken up for the Sohma head and a perhaps less twisted, dark, and mind gamey 16/17 year old Shigure. I love him dearly, but he_ is_ a mess.

Until next update. Stay safe. Stay healthy.

_Worthless._

_Hopeless._

_Broken. Twisted._

_Ugly._

_How could anyone love you?_

_They don't love you. No one does. You're nothing. You're not special. There is no bond._

She did the only thing she could think to do. She ran.

Hiding behind the bushes and trees in the center of the garden, she allowed herself to run her mind over the broken, jagged edges of her heart. What if...What if...the questions That Woman raised never left her alone. What if it was all true? She felt the planes of her face, the edges of her cheeks that still retained the roundness of childhood. Ran a finer down the small, pert nose. Skimmed the smooth skin around her small mouth. She knew she was ugly. She'd been told so, so many times before. She felt the pulsing of her heart, held a small, fine boned hand over the beating muscle. Is this what it felt to be unloved, to be a broken god without a bond?

A brisk breeze blew through her hiding space, cooling the tears she hadn't realized she was shedding. That broke the dam inside and a fresh wave of tears stung her eyes while a sob bubbled up in her throat. She curled in on herself and began to break apart. She knew it was weak, ugly, and unbecoming to cry. That Woman had surely sent someone by now to fetch her and drag her back. She'd surely have more venomous commentary at the sight of red, puffy eyes and tear glazed cheeks. At the snap of a twig, her blood ran cold. She hastily scrubbed tears away with the sleeves of her thin yukata and tried to stop shivering. Had it always been so chilly out here? She stood up tall, back straight, determined to meet whoever they sent for her like the god she was, not some petulant, weeping child.

"Akito? Is that you?" asked a distinctly male voice, one that had finally dropped to its adult resolve wobbled. Of course they would send him after her. A wiry pair of arms wrapped around her, pulling her close and trying to warm her cold body. The tears started spilling again leaving spreading tear stains on the front of his shirt. He only held her tighter when he felt her shoulders begin to shake..

"Shhh…. Don't cry," he murmured, tilting her face up to his, wiping away her tears with a gentle thumb. Her dark eyes met his unusually serious grey gaze. He gently cradled her face, that cheek she found so hideous earlier, in one of his palms while his other arm held her securely in place. It was any adolescent girl's wildest dream, to be held so dearly and closely by a cute boy, but she knew she couldn't appreciate it. They'd sent him after all...hadn't they?

_I care about you, more than I care about anyone...I love you. _

His words. His words from that time before, when her life's foundation rocked the first time, echoed back in her mind. The bond between them at least was real. It had to be.

She threw her arms around him weakly, wanting to cement them together, to solidify this moment here where he was close and honest and connected to her. He just held her tighter as she shook from the small sobs that continued despite her best effort to stop them. A stronger breeze floated around them causing her to shiver more.

"Akito, we should go inside," he gently suggested, still cradling her small frame clad only in a thin, summer yukata.

"No," came the adamant reply from the fabric on his shoulder. How dare he ruin this moment by wanting to leave, to slip away, to send her back and abandon her.

"You'll catch a cold out here in this wind. Come on, we'll go inside where it's warmer and…"

"I said NO! I don't want to go back there. I hate her! I hate it all!" she cut through his soothing voice with her own high-pitched screams, so out of place in her warm safe haven. The arms encircling her grew tighter. He wasn't leaving her. He never could.

"Whatever you wish my goddess," he whispered into her hair, kissing the top of her head softly. He began to sway; gently rocking her while they stood together in an embrace.


End file.
